The freewrite group to which I belong assigns a writing prompt every day.
Recently, the prompt was poison ivy, so I wrote this silly poem.
A Leafy Location
by Alice Woodrome
While on vacation
In a leafy location
I contracted a loathsome rash.
I was itchy and twitchy
And really quite bitchy
So off to the doctor I dashed.
"It's poison ivy
that's making you hivey,"
the doctor said in a flash.
"The medication
for this condition
is great if you got the cash."
I thanked the physician
with expectations
of curing the awful itch.
After several applications
and rising frustrations
I gave the lotion a pitch.
And looked for a witch
to cure my itch,
who gave me a remedy.
"Make a tea
of this potpourri,
and see if you don't agree."
"It isn't free
and there's no guarantee"
she added, "but have no fear.
I'm sure you will see
when you drink the tea.
the hives will disappear."
I was having suspicions
that this condition
could be cured by potpourri,
But I brewed and stewed
in a dubious mood
and drank the awful tea.
I counted to seven
and prayed to heaven.
No change in the situation.
So I gave up the notion
that lotion or potion
will ease my irritation.
